


To Make You Proud

by ribbonelle



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, BDSM, Dom/Sub Implications, M/M, Public Scene, Sex Toys, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:45:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1979883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/pseuds/ribbonelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blurr was to run, and a particular teacher was expecting the best from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Make You Proud

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Textbook Felony](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739210) by [Hambone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone). 



> i give up on titles. i give up. but another piece for hamfootsia/hambone's high school AU. includes toys and a sad attempt to write kids running

The whole thing felt juvenile, if you ask Blurr.

 Well of course he was still in his teens and was the _definition_ of juvenile, but he was also the student with a teacher as a lover, and had participated in many extremely mature interactions.

But here he was, giggling into his hand like a flustered bot who had a giant crush (which might or might not be his case, but he doesn’t think too much about that).

Sir Longarm was making eyes at him.

Naturally, they had each other’s comm. frequencies and could easily have silent conversations but Sir Longarm also enjoyed playing games, as he was doing currently with Blurr. They were on the field, and the sun was hot enough to make metal pop. A nearby school had invited their own for a friendly match in the name of practice for the upcoming regional races. Blurr was indubitably competing; he was the main runner in most of the events for the regionals.

Quite a number of teachers had come along for support and also supervision, and Sir Longarm ‘happened’ to be one of them. Blurr recalled his spark fluttering at the sight of his teacher in much more casual clothes than usual, waving amiably at him from across the field.

He had spent the previous evening at Longarm’s but he returned to the dorms for the night, to rest well for the coming day. That didn’t stop Sir Longarm from requesting something of him.

Blurr squirmed slightly at the memory, and at the full pressure stretching the walls of his valve. He had tried running a few laps for warm up earlier, and the toy inside of him didn’t seem to be much of an obstacle, but it was a hell of a distraction. 

Good enough that it wasn’t remote-controlled or anything, because Blurr couldn’t guarantee an absolute poker face if his teacher decided to mess around with him during the race. He would most likely double over and come inside of his shorts, and then everyone would find out. The thought was disturbing, but Blurr shifted on his feet in aroused discomfort. If only.

There was loud feedback from a speaker before the announcement for the runners to get ready were made, and Blurr jumped a few times, stretching his legs. He glanced at Sir Longarm one last time and flashed him a fairly confident smile. Even from this distance, he recognized the relaxed stance his teacher was in, and the way those optics dimmed. It meant Longarm was expecting something of him. Blurr couldn’t be happier to oblige.

The runners moved to the starting line and took their positions. Blurr knew he was fast, he knew he could come in first easily but there was sudden doubt in his processor, not to mention nervousness. Could anyone else see the shape of the toy’s handle through his shorts if he gets into position? Would something stupid happen, like it dropping out while he was running? What if he tore something if he ran too fast? What if it gets in deeper and hits his ceiling node? What ifs, what ifs.

Blurr shook the thoughts away from his head, and placed his hands before the starting line, one knee on the ground. He shouldn’t be thinking too much. Of course this is the first time he’d ever done something like this, but he trusted Sir Longarm enough to know nothing but would happen. Probably.

But then again, there was no predicting what Sir Longarm had in mind.

He took deep in-vents, willing away the panic building up in his circuits. He focused on the track, tuning into the right mindset.

“Ready, ” the voice on the speaker said, and all else was silenced for Blurr.

“Set…” the runners lifted themselves into position and there was a low gasp, almost inaudible. Blurr tried really hard not to tremble. The toy had been snug inside him before, the size was just right so it didn’t slip out much, but shifting stances had moved it as well, and Blurr was hyper aware of the stretch inside his valve.

He could feel the weight of Sir Longarm’s stare on him, as if it was tangible.

“Go!”

They ran. People were shouting and cheering and Blurr could hear nothing. Only three things were importance to him at the moment; the blur of the field around him, the pressure inside his valve, and the one single mech, whose presence was heavy enough for Blurr to feel in his core, the red orb on Longarm’s forehead bright enough to blind.

The thrill from running and suppressed arousal intermingled.

He passed the finish line before everyone else with ease.

Blurr let out a laugh in triumph as the representatives of his school whooped in shared joy. He’d already won the first race, and there wasn’t a doubt he’d win the rest of the events he participated in.

He turned around to seek out his teacher, hungry for a response but he stopped in his tracks as Longarm made his way towards Blurr. To anyone else, it was casual, a teacher going over to congratulate his favourite student as well as give him some energon. It was something else entirely for the mechs involved.

Blurr stared till Longarm was standing right in front of him, handing him a bottle of filtered energon, a tender smile on his face. Blurr took it after a while, deliberately letting their fingers brush. Longarm’s optics dimmed.

He raised a hand and gently patted Blurr’s helm, lingering a moment before ceasing contact.

“Congratulations, Blurr. You did well.”

:Good pet. I’m proud of you.:

Blurr visibly preened at the contact, at the compliment, and shifted on his feet in embarrassed happiness. There was a twinge in his valve, the walls sore from all the friction but it registered as pleasure, as a reminder what exactly was happening between him and Sir Longarm.

Desire felt like extra charge running through his lines, like static.

“Sir, I—,” he started, before rebooting his vocalizer to try again, “Thank you sir, thank you very much for your support I am happy that you think so and I hope I win again, there’s quite a number of races to go but I think I can definitely do it if you’re here watching and supporting me it feels like you’re my motivation sometimes but I’m sure you’re aware of that so thank you and please keep watching me.”

Through their comm. frequency, he whimpered with want.

Longarm reached to pat his head one more time, smiling kindly. :Once the competition is over, refuse any offers of celebration. Wait for me. We shall return together. And I believe a reward is due for you, love, for doing so well.:

Blurr nodded almost frantically, willing his valve to stop lubricating, his spike to stop straining against its housing. It was hard trying to keep a straight processor when Longarm’s voice dripped with promise,  of very good things to come.

And of course, it goes without saying, that he won every single race afterwards. 


End file.
